


To Boldly Go

by SeeTheVision



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, M/M, Outer Space, Strangers to Lovers, alien! kun, starfleet officer! ten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeTheVision/pseuds/SeeTheVision
Summary: After two years of preparation, Ten was itching to finally be on the planet's surface. This was what he'd been working towards since the day he decided to study pre-contact anthropology at Starfleet Academy. He was prepared for anything.Well, almost anything.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78
Collections: Challenge #4 — Awaken The World





	To Boldly Go

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick note if you've never seen star trek - the prime directive is a rule that starfleet can't interfere with the natural development of civilizations, especially those that haven't made contact with other life forms yet. it's pretty much starfleet's most important rule, which of course means that it gets broken all the time on the show.

Ten's tongue traced over the line of his teeth, still not used to the implants a day after the alterations. Luckily he hadn't needed to restructure any of his facial bones, merely lengthen and sharpen his canines and premolars. With the new teeth, as well as the carefully pointed tips of his ears and newly dark red hair, he would fit right in on Auriall—as long as no one noticed the red blood, the different structure of his ribcage, the lack of abdominal air sacs… well, at least he looked the part on the exterior.

It had always been fascinating to Ten, in the infinite reach of the universe, how often they ran across sentient life forms with basic humanoid characteristics. Maybe it was a sure sign that there really was a god out there somewhere, orchestrating everything, or maybe it was a coincidence of cosmic proportions.

Either way, it made Ten's job easier.

"Commander Leechaiyapornkul."

Ten knew who had called to him without turning his head; only one officer on the _U.S.S. Vision_ bothered to address him by his full surname. 

"Hello, Sicheng," Ten grinned, showing off his new teeth. 

Sicheng's unimpressed glance was less sharp than usual, softened by his reshaped brow. With the tips of his naturally pointed ears tapered slightly backward rather than up and his hair purple, he hardly looked Vulcan at all.

"Again, I would request that you refer to me as Lieutenant Dong while we are on duty, Commander," said Sicheng flatly. Yep, still Vulcan.

"I'm just preparing for our mission," Ten argued, waving away the formality. “Getting into character!”

"I hardly think additional preparation is necessary, Commander."

Ten rolled his eyes as they stepped into the turbolift, but Sicheng was right. They'd spent over two years preparing for this task—months of intensive language and culture research, countless hours on the holodeck running simulation after simulation until Ten almost forgot that he _wasn't_ Aurialli. After so much preparation, he was itching to finally be on the planet's surface. This was what he'd been working towards since the day he decided to study pre-contact anthropology at Starfleet Academy.

The door to the bridge swished open and the on-duty officers greeted them jovially.

"The big day, at last," grinned Captain Wong—or Yukhei, as he insisted his senior officers call him. The youngest captain Star Fleet had seen in decades, Yukhei's wide eyes and bright smile made Ten want to pull him into his arms and protect him from any threat the universe had to offer, but he knew he didn't need to. Yukhei was sharp as a Klingon bat'leth—and just as deadly when he needed to be.

"Yes sir," Ten returned the grin, excitement pumping through his veins. "When will we be reaching Auriall?"

"Approximately one hour," answered Ensign Xiao from the helm. 

"Just enough time to have one last drink," said Yukhei, clapping one hand on Ten's shoulder, the other on Sicheng's. "Number One, you have the bridge."

"Yes sir," First Officer Kunhang Huang replied, sending Ten and Sicheng a thumbs up. "The new ears look nice."

"I haven't had a chance to research Auriall very much," admitted Yukhei as they stepped back into the turbolift. "How advanced is their civilization?"

"They have completed the transition to nuclear and solar power," answered Sicheng, "but have not yet developed the warp drive."

"Think mid-21st century Earth," added Ten, "but without the nuclear war."

"At least, no nuclear war so far," Sicheng pointed out. "Both main political entities of Auriall are capable of building such weapons, and although they have not turned them on each other yet, they have been threatening war for decades."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a real joy to be around?" asked Ten as they reached the recreation deck and took seats at the bar. 

"No."

"Good, because it would be a lie."

Yukhei laughed as grabbed three glasses of synthehol from the replicator. "Oh come on, I enjoy Commander Dong's company. I'll miss you both while you're away."

***

52 minutes later, Ten and Sicheng stood side by side in transporter room B, having traded their Star Fleet uniforms for nondescript Aurialli clothing—loose black trousers and simple woven shirts, synthesized by the ship’s replicators but indistinguishable from the textiles produced on the planet’s surface. Their tricorders were cunningly disguised as Auriall-produced technology and stored in simple cases. The only signs of their origin were their communicator badges, carefully hidden beneath their shirts. Packs slung over their shoulders held extra clothes and a few emergency essentials, including a phaser which Ten hoped never to have reason to remove.

"Be careful down there," said Dejun, pulling Ten into a hug.

"Careful is my middle name," Ten smirked as Dejun released him, moving on to Sicheng who stood like a statue in the embrace. 

"Of course it is," grinned Kunhang, gripping Ten's hand. "Right after 'brilliant' and 'delightful.'"

"Isn't his name long enough without adding adjectives?" complained Yukhei, but he was grinning. "Get going, you two, we need to rendezvous with the _U.S.S. Dream_ at starbase 127 and I'd rather not be late."

As he stepped onto the transporter pad, Ten took a deep breath—his last breath of the carefully recycled air of the _U.S.S. Vision._ The next time his lungs expanded, they would be met by a real atmosphere.

"Engage," said Sicheng, and Ten's body dissolved into tiny, tingling traces of energy.

***

Finding inconspicuous employment was simple, thanks to careful research and planning. Many farms near the city of Rilla hired seasonal farmhands for the harvest, and it was only a matter of materializing out of view and making their way to the market square on the appropriate day.

Of course, life on a farm wouldn’t offer the endless opportunities for surveillance and research that the city might, but it was all a part of the plan. A full season of working for a local farmer would integrate Ten and Sicheng into Rilla society, and once the harvest was over no one would question two farmhands seeking jobs in the city. Their mission was scheduled to last two full years for a reason, and Ten intended to take his time to ensure that everything went smoothly.

As it shimmered back into existence, Ten flexed his hand. His muscles were trained by hours of mind-numbingly dull farmwork simulations on the holodeck, but as he and Sicheng approached the main market square, he was glad for the practice. They were hardly the only people looking for work, and many of the Aurialli crowded around Ten were a good deal taller than him. He took a deep breath of the humid atmosphere and reminded himself that he was here for a purpose.

“Hello, sir,” Sicheng called in perfectly accented Auri to a nearby man, “are you in need of laborers? My friend and I are hard workers, I assure you.”

Although the square rang with dozens of similar promises, the man paused and glanced from Sicheng to Ten. He was a bit shorter than Sicheng, but with a solid build that suggested a lifetime of hard work—although, judging by what Ten knew of Aurialli age progression, this man’s lifetime could not have been more than twenty-five years long so far. A younger man trailed behind him, wiry with a sweet, youthful face.

“What are your names?” the first man asked, brushing a curl of deep blue hair from his eyes.

“I’m Winwin, and this is Yongqin” Sicheng replied immediately with their chosen pseudonyms. Ten felt a thrill at hearing his new name finally spoken on the surface of Auriall.

“Nice to meet you,” the man bowed his head slightly and tapped two fingers to his chin in traditional Aurialli greeting, as did his companion. Ten and Winwin followed suit. “My name is Kun, and this is my brother Yangyang. Do you have any experience growing jirna?”

“We do,” answered Ten, remembering the particular holodeck program.

Kun regarded them shrewdly for a moment, then offered a smile that managed to be welcoming despite the sharp teeth. “I consider myself an excellent judge of character and you two seem perfectly agreeable. We’d be happy to have you. Our hovercraft is just this way.”

Ten bit back a triumphant whoop as he and Sicheng followed their new employer down a bustling side street. As he allowed himself to look around, Ten was nearly blinded by the beauty of the city. The buildings burst with greenery, the popularity of bioarchitecture in recent decades clear, filling the air with floral fragrance.

Kun ushered them into a waiting hovercraft, apparently eager to leave the bustle of the city behind. “I’d stay out on the farm if I could,” he said as the magnetic levitation silently lifted them from the street, “but I don’t trust Yangyang to do the hiring just yet.”

Yangyang launched into a speech about how he was old enough to take over any tasks that needed to be done, and Ten allowed himself to relax against the plush interior. They had cleared the first hurdle.

***

Much to Ten’s disappointment, farmwork on the planet was remarkably similar to farmwork on the holodeck.

“The program was designed to mimic authentic experience as closely as possible,” Sicheng reminded him.

“I know that, Si—I mean, Winwin,” Ten sighed, kicking his boots off and collapsing onto the large, round cushion that served as a bed. When he returned to the fleet, he might have to replace the mattress in his crew quarters with one of these; the Aurialli knew what they were doing when it came to sleeping arrangements. “I just expected a little more, I don’t know, excitement.”

“No excitement means that our plan is going smoothly,” Sicheng said calmly. “At least this planet has rudimentary droids and machinery, or I suspect you would be complaining a great deal more.”

Although the farm itself wasn’t particularly interesting, Ten was finding himself more and more fascinated by the owners. Yangyang had taken to him and Sicheng like an enthusiastic baby chick, and Ten was immediately endeared. Even Sicheng was slightly less stony when speaking to Yangyang—or maybe that was just Ten’s imagination.

But even more endearing was Kun. As he suspected, Kun was around Ten’s own age, but the responsibility he’d taken on of running the farm when his father died six years ago had caused him to mature before his time. For the most part, he was steady, dependable, and unflappable. However, there were times when Ten surprised him with a joke, and his face would light up with childlike delight. As they spent more time together—in the fields, at meals, huddled around the heater when the nights turned chilly—Kun gradually began to open up, blossoming like a flower. He returned Ten’s teasing, gave his smiles more freely, and Ten had to fight back a blush that would give him away—his cheeks would tint pink, rather than dusky purple. But he sometimes forgot that he was on this planet for research purposes. He forgot that he wasn’t really Yongqin.

Even so, occasional homesickness was unavoidable. It was like being at the Academy all over again—separated from everything familiar. He missed his crew quarters with its replicator and computer database access. He missed afternoons on the holodeck with his dance instruction programs. He even missed his Starfleet uniform with its uncomfortable high collar. But most of all, he missed his crewmates.

"What are you thinking about, Yongqin?" Kun asked sitting beside him on the front doorstep. 

Ten blinked, taking a moment to register his new name and pull his thoughts back from lightyears away. "My family," he said eventually, having no other word to describe what his crew was to him.

“I see,” Kun replied softly, following Ten’s example in gazing off into the distance where the star Auri was disappearing behind the mountains. “Are you far from home?”

 _Farther than you could possibly imagine,_ Ten thought wryly, but all he said was, “Yes. My home is very, very far away.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as the last rays of daylight bled away, replaced with the sprawling expanse of stars. Ten wondered if any of the pinpricks of light above his head now were visible from Earth. He wondered where the _Vision_ was now, and if any passengers could look out their windows and see Auri.

“I hope you’ll be able to return to your family one day, Yongqin,” Kun said at last, “but until then, you have a home here with us.”

Ten managed a smile, albeit a slightly watery one. Kun probably assumed that Ten had come from Lari, the less idyllic of the two countries on Auriall. The distance from one hemisphere of this planet to the other was laughable compared to the lightyears separating Ten from his home star system, but he appreciated Kun’s words nonetheless. 

***

It was a stupid mistake. He was distracted for a moment by the peculiar call of some sort of flying animal near the window as he helped Kun prepare the evening meal, and the knife slipped in his hand.

The cut was shallow, just a nick really, at the base of his thumb. It wasn’t a catastrophe.

Except that the blood welling from beneath his skin was bright scarlet, not cobalt.

Kun’s eyes flicked from the wound to Ten’s face—not afraid, not yet. Merely curious. “Yonqin?”

Ten closed his eyes, gathering himself, refusing to fall to pieces. “My name," he said, "is Ten.”

***

“So, you disclosed our mission and origin, thereby violating the Prime Directive which you swore to honor,” said Sicheng matter-of-factly. Ten winced; cold logic was a more jarring slap in the face than an outburst of shouting would have been.

“I didn’t violate the Prime Directive,” Ten mumbled, feeling like a petulant child. “I’m not interfering with the civilization or society. It’s just… it’s only Kun.”

“Indeed,” agreed Sicheng. “Who, need I remind you, is a member of a culture that has yet to make first contact.”

“And besides,” Ten barreled on, his own emotions bolstered by Sicheng’s neutrality, “it wasn’t my fault. What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have claimed to have a blood condition,” Sicheng suggested.

“A blood—” Damn, that might have worked. “Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now.”

“True,” said Sicheng, his face stoic as ever. “Dwelling on past mistakes is illogical. We must contact Starfleet as soon as possible.”

“ _What?”_

“The mission is compromised. It must be terminated.”

Despite all Ten's protests, Sicheng sent the communication immediately and reported that the _U.S.S. Vision_ was on the way. Ten couldn't stand to think how disappointed his commanding officers would be. His first major mission—a disaster. 

He pushed his way past Sicheng, out into the fields. The vast sky yawned above him, familiar and comforting. He was so engrossed in his examination of the stars that he didn't notice Kun's approach until he spoke.

"So there really are people out there?"

Ten wiped at his face with his sleeve. "Yes. Trillions of them."

"Isn't it incredible," Kun murmured, "that out of all those trillions of people, you and I managed to find our way to each other?"

Kun wasn't looking at him like he was an alien. With the stars reflected in his eyes, he was looking at him as if he was as stunning as the night sky. "Ten," he murmured, and Ten nearly sobbed to hear his real name cradled so gently by Kun's voice. 

"I have to leave, Kun," he choked out, allowing Kun to draw him against his chest. "I've ruined everything."

"You haven't," Kun protested. "I won't tell anyone, not even Yangyang.

"But—"

Something streaked across the sky and Ten looked up, half expecting to glimpse the _Vision_ dropping out of warp, but a few moments later a deep rumble shook the ground, sending a shockwave through his bones. To the east, toward the city of Rilla, an explosion lit the night.

Before Ten could begin to piece together the implications, Yangyang came tumbling out the door.

"I just heard on broadcast," he gasped, breathless with terror, "our hemisphere is under attack."

Sicheng appeared at Yangyang's elbow, looking almost agitated. "It seems that Auriall is very much like mid-21st century Earth."

"We've got to do something," said Ten, biting back several choice Klingon curse words. "The _Vision_ is on its way—"

"No, Ten," Sicheng cut him off, ignoring Yangyang's confusion at the unfamiliar name. "Remember the Prime Directive. We cannot interfere."

As if on cue, the communicator pinned to the inside of Ten's shirt pinged. _"_ Vision _to Commander Lee. We are within transporter range."_

Ten's eyes flitted from Sicheng to Kun to Yangyang before settling on the faint, fiery glow at the horizon. He pressed his communicator. "Four to beam up."

"Ten—"

"I will hear no arguments, Sicheng," Ten snapped. "I am the ranking officer on this mission, and if I am punished for this decision, then so be it. I may not be able to save this whole planet from the devastation of nuclear war, but I can save these two."

Sicheng gave a curt nod as the communicator pinged again. _"We have locked on to you Commander, as well as Lieutenant Dong and the two Aurialli nearest you."_

"Yangyang, Kun, this is going to be strange but you have to trust me." Kun squeezed his shoulder, and Yangyang gave a nervous, nonplussed smile. Ten tapped his communicator. "Engage."

**Author's Note:**

> yangyang ends up going to starfleet academy and eventually joins the crew in the engineering department. kun learns to pilot, becomes a helmsman, and also helps ten write several books on aurialli history and culture.
> 
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